Stranger in a Strange Land
by KnHime-2
Summary: (Humanized Moe and The Big Exit Universe) In a tiny camp site on the Rockies, a new descendant of Little Joe comes into the world.


**Those who are reading **_**the Village Idiot**_**, rest assured: I'm still writing it. I just really wanted to post this piece. Of all the Larry/Petunia relationships, I think the one in the **_**Big Exit**_** universe is the one of the most touching and poignant.**

* * *

He tried to think of a time when he was more scared than this.

Was it the time he found the tail end of a rattlesnake, before discovering it was only the shed skin?

Nope.

Was it the time The Pitters' prize bull chased him across the county?

Nuh-uh.

Was it that moment, three years ago, when he lost his temper and knocked his adopted brother Bill into the canyon?

Not even close.

Another yell from the tepee made him jump and wring his hands furiously.

"Hey…hey: Take it easy." His father-in-law said from his spot by the fire, where he was reading an old battered bible.

Moe rubbed his hands across his face. "I can't! All I can think about is how many ways it can go wrong in there!"

"It's in the Lord's hands." The older man assured, lightly patting his shoulder. "Sally's a tough kid: and believe me, I was just as worried when she was born, and everything turned out fine."

But even Moe knew that a perfectly healthy mother and child could be lost in such a harrowing ordeal.

Back in Dodgeball City he'd attended funerals of woman and babies who hadn't survived the process.

One incident in particular stood out to him.

* * *

When he was six, maybe seven years old, a family he knew, the Sutters, were expecting a baby. When the day came, his mother was one of the women recruited to assist.

It wasn't Mrs. Sutter's first baby, so his mother said she would probably be back in time for dinner.

Dinner came and went. Thankfully his oldest brother, Clem, eleven at the time, knew how to heat up a can of beans, so they didn't go hungry.

It was almost bedtime when his mother finally came home. He ran to her, a million questions on his tongue, but when he saw her face he froze in his tracks.

She wasn't smiling, like he expected someone who just saw a baby being born to do, but she looked grim, her normally jovial expression replaced by a serious, drawn one.

"Ma…"

"Maybe you should run along to bed, Moe." Clem said, understanding all too well and trying to protect his baby brother.

"No." Their mother shook her head. "He's old enough to know."

"Know what?" Moe asked, bewildered.

His mother knelt down in front of him. "Sweetie, I've got some very sad news."

He swallowed. "Is it the Sutter baby?"

She nodded. "I'm afraid she didn't make it."

He was quiet for a moment. "It was a girl?" he inquired softly.

"Yes."

He tried to make sense of what he was hearing. Babies didn't die, only old or sick people died. Something wasn't right.

"What went wrong?"

"We don't know: being born is very difficult, I guess it was just too much for her to handle."

He bit his lip. "Is Mrs. Sutter okay?"

"She will be." She gently ruffled his hair. "But She and the rest of the family're goin' through a rough patch right now."

He hugged her fiercely, burying his face in her shoulder.

* * *

That was the day he learned that childbirth didn't always end well.

And the events kept running through his head, over and over again, in the months since he learned he was going to be a father.

What would he do if anything happened to either of them?

He couldn't even comprehend it. He couldn't imagine life without Sally. Ever since she pulled him out of that well three odd years ago, she'd brought a light that couldn't be extinguished.

And this time, his mother wasn't here to hold him and tell him everything was gonna be okay.

He was pulled from his thoughts and realized something was different.

All was quiet.

For the last several hours, the clearing had been filled with the sounds of his wife's travails, and now the only sound coming from the tent was a brief shuffling from within.

Even his father-in-law was looking up from his devotions and watching the tent.

Then a tiny, gurgling mew, like a sleepy kitten.

It grew louder, steadily louder, and clearer, until it was a full on howl.

Moe let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Looks like we got ourselves a baby boy!" His mother-in-law announced from inside the tepee for their benefit.

"A boy…" He echoed softly.

"A grandson! YAHOO!" His father in law slapped him on the back in his excitement. "Did ya' hear that?!"

"A boy…" He said again, still too stunned.

He could hear Sally's voice above the crying, her excited tones. She was okay. They were both okay.

He finally began to smile, joy and relief coursing through him. "It's a _boy!_"

It felt like forever before Sally's mother finally poked her head out, smiling proudly, and said, "All clear Moe; you can came in now."

His heart leapt into his throat. He went forward and got down on his hands and knees before crawling in.

The baby was already nursing, wrapped in a soft blanket lined with cattail down, his little scalp covered with thick, dark hair.

And Sally… Sally looked radiant.

She was wearing nothing, only a woven blanket preserving her modesty, covering her from the waist down, her face flushed and sweaty and her hair was out of its usual braid and tied back with a leather thong. She had a tired but victorious smile on her face.

Good Lord she looked beautiful.

She looked up at him. "Hey."

"Sally…" He would not cry. He _would not_ cry.

Her smile widened. "He looks like you."

He bit his lip. Tears beginning to spill in spite of his efforts. "Are…are you okay?"

"Never better."

He scooted closer and leaned forward, gently prodding one of his tiny hands with his finger, letting the fist curl around it. "He's so small..."

"He _felt_ pretty big, especially going out."

Moe felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "He looks kinda like a baby field mouse."

"Yes: except much more handsome." She leaned down to kiss the top of his tiny head.

Moe blinked rapidly, shaking his head. "I can't believe this…it's too good to be true."

His wife smiled in understanding.

* * *

He soon finished and Sally burped him. Moe decided this was a good time to ask, "May I hold him?"

"Of course!" She handed the tiny bundle over.

The little one hardly seemed to weigh anything. He blinked owlishly up at his father with a curious gaze. Even now, Moe could see his own resemblance in the pink crinkled face.

"_Wow._" That was all he could say.

"Yeah." Sally leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You know something: you're incredible." He told her.

"Me?"

He nodded. "You just made a person! And you spent a whole day bringing him into the world and hardly broke a sweat!"

"I'm sweating plenty, and," her eyes twinkled and a saucy smirk graced her features. "I didn't make him all by myself, you know.

"Well, I guess…but you did the hard part."

"True. Very true." She conceded. She pressed a kiss against his cheek.

"How about Gershom?"

She leaned back. "For what?"

"For a name, of course."

"What's it mean?"

"It's from the Bible: I think it means 'Stranger in a strange land'."

She beamed, brushing her thumb over his chin. "I like it."

"Gershom." He kissed the top of his son's head. "Happy birthday."

* * *

**An explanation: I know Moe and Sally's son is called 'Gherkin', but it's obviously a veggie spoof of Gershom, the name of Moses and Zipporah's first born. **

**In my headcannon Gherkin is a nickname they give him a few years down the road.**


End file.
